


deja vu

by envysparkler



Series: Pavor [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Scarecrow's Fear Toxin (DCU), Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26680330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/envysparkler/pseuds/envysparkler
Summary: Red Robin gets hit with fear toxin.  Red Hood is the closest person with the antidote.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Pavor [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932523
Comments: 48
Kudos: 1139
Collections: Jason and Tim Enemy-to-Caretaker





	deja vu

There was barely a warning before the alley was carpeted with another haze of fear toxin. Tim inwardly cursed, slammed his bo staff into one of Scarecrow’s henchmen, and leapt off to grab the fire escape.

His rebreather wasn’t going to last much longer. He needed to get to clean air.

He scrambled up the fire escape and crashed through a dark window. He didn’t know if it was uninhabited, but he had to get away. The air was choking him, coiling around with snatching fingers, and he could feel his heart rate kick up.

He slammed into another room – empty, deserted, cobwebs stretching across corners – and tore his cape off to seal the bottom of the door. He ensured that the window was closed shut before yanking off his rebreather.

It clattered into a corner as Tim tried to remember how to breathe. In, hold for three, then out. In, hold for three, then out.

Was the toxin already affecting him? Had it overcome the filters of his rebreather?

Tim scrounged through the pockets of his utility belt, but found no familiar vials. Right – he’d given his antidote to Batgirl when her rebreather failed.

“This is Red Robin, I think I’ve been hit with fear toxin and I’m out of the antidote.”

He needed to not panic. In, hold for three, then out. Someone would come with an antidote. In, hold for three, then out. As long as he kept calm, everything would be fine. In, hold for three –

His comms were silent. Dead silent, not even static – not a bad signal, not a jammer, no, it had to be a local EMP –

Something creaked in the hallway.

_No_. He needed to keep his heart rate down. In, hold for three, then out. It was probably just his imagination. In, hold for three, then out. Old buildings creaked all the time. In, hold for three, then out.

But why weren’t his comms working?

The doorknob twisted – because Tim hadn’t locked it, had done nothing to barricade himself inside, how could he be so _stupid_ – and opened.

Red helmet, leather jacket, and several guns.

Oh no. Oh _no_. They weren’t in Crime Alley, but they were close enough and Tim didn’t know what Hood had taken offense at this time.

Tim scrambled up – in, hold for three – his bo staff trembling slightly in his hands. The comms were disabled and he was alone with a man that had tried murdering him twice already. “Hood,” Tim ended up squeaking.

“Hey there, Replacement.”

Tim took a wary step back, shifting towards the window. The helmet turned, tracking him easily. Another step back and – Hood lunged, and Tim frantically countered with his staff.

Hood dodged easily, slipping fluidly past his attacks as Tim stumbled, jerking back whenever Hood got too close. Hood kept pressing forward and ice slid down Tim’s spine – he was being herded to the corner.

“What do you want, Hood?” Tim snapped, twisting the staff towards Hood’s shoulder. He sidestepped it easily and something in Tim’s chest burned.

“I thought I saw a scared little Robin hiding in the closet.” Amused and vicious.

Hood hadn’t thrown a single punch yet. It was a _game_ to him, watching Tim try desperately to fend him off, like a cat playing with a mouse – before it finally got bored and pounced.

“Don’t you know that that’s where the monsters are?”

Tim snarled as Hood leaned out of range of his latest move and used the extra space to lunge forward, snapping the staff at Hood’s helmet.

To his shock, it connected. Hood stumbled back and Tim turned with the staff, spinning to lash out at Hood’s armored midsection. Hood staggered back another step at the hit, but blocked Tim’s follow-up by grabbing his staff.

“Birdie’s learnt some new moves,” Hood rasped, and _that_ was definitely anger. “Pity that you still haven’t learned not to bring a staff to a gun fight.”

Tim froze, staring down the barrel of the gun pointed straight at his face. The staff fell to the ground with a clatter.

Hood stepped forward and Tim stepped back. Another step forward, another step back. Another step forward – Tim’s back hit the wall and he froze.

“Looks like I caught a little birdie,” Hood said, his finger curling around the trigger, “Now it’s time to clip its wings.”

Hood moved, and Tim ducked instinctively – the gun went off with a _bang_ but Tim couldn’t feel anything – Hood slammed into him, sending them both to the floor and Tim snarled, writhing in his grip, jabbing an elbow in the ribs he’d hopefully broken.

Hood cursed, but didn’t let go and Tim struggled harder, feeling the burn at the corner of his eyes as he clawed at Hood’s grasp.

“Let go, _stop_ –”

Hood was stronger than him, a heavy weight pinning down every limb and no matter how furiously Tim fought, he didn’t have an inch of leverage to work with, and there was a needle in Hood’s hand –

Tim writhed, trying to buck away from the needle – sedative, he was going to be dragged back to be tortured at Hood’s lair – or some unholy combination of drugs cooked up in Crime Alley –

“No – stop, Hood, don’t, please – Hood, _please_ – don’t do it – Hood, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry – _please_ –”

A sudden pinprick of pain in his neck and Tim went limp, choking on a sob. Too late. Everything was going to blur out and go dark, or the fire would ignite, or he’d start screaming, or –

Or his mind would start to clear.

The steel vise pinning him down loosened and then vanished entirely. The shadows slunk back to their corners. His comms were working again, a low chatter as Scarecrow was apparently taken into custody.

He was trembling, covered with sweat, his mouth dry, viscerally aware of his heart rate slowing back to normal.

“Hood, status?” the comm line crackled.

“Stuck him with the antidote,” Hood said, his voice echoing – through the comms and from the red helmet in front of him. “You good, baby bird?”

Tim straightened up, watching Hood lean out of his crouch to examine Tim’s face, shining a flashlight into his eyes.

“Jason?” Tim rasped, his throat hoarse.

“In the flesh, Red,” Hood flicked off the flashlight and straightened. “Looks like he’s fine,” he said to the other end of the comms.

Hood was hunching slightly, one arm curled around his chest – Tim remembered terror, remembered slamming the staff into the armor hard enough to break something, remembered _screaming_ –

Hood shifted towards him and Tim flinched back, heart racing, and accidentally banged his head on the wall. Hood froze.

Tim stared at the featureless red helmet. Hood eased back slowly, careful to keep all his movements in plain view, and headed for the door.

Tim cursed under his breath. “Hood,” he called out, taking a stuttering step after the man. Hood didn’t turn. “Jason,” he tried, and Hood stopped.

“I’ve got an ice pack with my name on it, and I’m certainly not helping with clean-up, so what do you –”

Tim got close enough to snag his wrist – Jason went tense, still and unmoving – and Tim wrapped his arms around him, avoiding his broken ribs.

It felt like he was a hugging a statue. Jason had even stopped breathing.

“Thank you,” Tim said, his voice muffled by Jason’s jacket.

There was a quick flash of warmth around his shoulder, there for an instant, then gone.

“I’ve already been cursed with one cuddly bird, I’m not dealing with another – you have three seconds to let go before I shoot you, Replacement.”

Tim held on for four seconds, hiding his smile.

“Someone mentioned cuddling?” Nightwing peered into the room.

Tim laughed at Jason’s snarled curse.


End file.
